Diversion
by newslayer
Summary: CWNT - Suddenly, it was Hogwarts all over again. Except that it wasn't. Not really.


As usual, none of this is mine (except maybe the plot). Comments and reviews are appreciated, my LJ is also open to everybody. I will very likely post there ( my LJ, username: newslayer) a few comments on this story and the characters just because I can and because I am self-centered and obsessive like that.

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**Diversion**

She's wearing a scarlet sweater; that's the first thing you notice when you see her entering the kitchen. She smiles at you as soon as she sees you sitting there, and she has the decency to blush slightly now that you've caught her spending the night at Grimmauld Place. She's too engaged in the task of hiding her embarrassment to realize that the circles below your eyes give away that you learned about her presence (and other activities) the hard way, and that sleep has avoided you ever since. But it's okay somehow, because you have forgotten about that altogether.

You're mesmerized.

She's not wearing just any sweater, she's wearing _that_ sweater. It's all scarlet and gold once again.

-

The mood at the Order meeting is grim and somber. You hear Shacklebolt speak and the others nod gravely. Something terrible has happened; there's been an attack, people – wizards and otherwise – have died.

All you can think of is ways to get her to meet your gaze.

You should probably be ashamed; you should surrender you wand, go back to Romania and live there as an outcast forever. You are a disgrace to the Weasley name and to the Order. But she's wearing that damned scarlet sweater and the fact that she purposefully avoids all eye contact with you only increases your anxiety about it.

It has always been like that with Nymphadora Tonks; you could never know where you stood because you were left wondering if that was the real her or just one of her impersonations. Most of the time, though, she was just being herself and people simply didn't take the time to notice. You know because you used to be one of them.

You wonder if she's doing it deliberately now.

-

Your old broom feels weird in the air today but you know that it probably has nothing to do with it, so when the twins suggest a Quidditch game you agree wholeheartedly – flying with a purpose should clear your head. But she's there, clad in _her_ sweater, and it's only the four of you plus Ron and Ginny, so there is no way out of this one.

She ends up being seeker for the other team.

And you know you should wonder aloud _where is Harry_?, and _how come he is not playing_?, and _why is he spending so much time with Hermione lately? And you know Ron, since she is your girlfriend, you should really pay close attention to what they do when they are alone because I've seen the way they look at each other, and the way they touch, and the way they just tend to gravitate towards each other_ or simply be a good big brother and tell him to get over it already, but you can't.

She's wearing that scarlet sweater and it's Hogwarts all over again.

You both dive for the snitch and she knocks you both off your brooms, landing on top of you. She blushes a violent shade of red that very well matches your hair, and you are certain that the fact that she did catch the snitch is the last thing on her mind – she probably hasn't even noticed. She lingers for a second and you can't breathe, although her weight is light on your chest; and you just know, you _know_, that had it been you the one on top, you would have kissed her without so much as a second thought.

Because she's wearing that scarlet sweater, and you wonder if she remembers that one Hogsmeade afternoon – you wonder if you don't remember more than there ever was to it.

She hasn't met your eyes, not even for a second.

-

Dinner at Grimmauld Place is sheer torture – this has to be Voldemort's doing, you conclude.

Remus Lupin is there and you feel tired, old, lonely, sad and miserable; and the fact that she is still wearing the scarlet sweater is not helping at all because you can't shake the memories it brings back, and you wonder what might have been.

He says something and she laughs animatedly, you can see her perfectly over his shoulder. She's a ghost from the past, a vision from a future that will never come to pass. And she doesn't know you exist, not anymore.

"I thought we'd agreed that you would never, ever, use that old oversized sweater again. I mean, you weren't even a Gryffindor, for Merlin's sake!" He says, playfully, and everybody agrees – but he just smiles at her.

Of course he does, you think, because he is Remus Lupin. He loves her, and he gets to joke with her, and tease her. And at the end of the day he gets to go to bed with her, hold her, kiss her, and hear her say how her day was and how grateful she is that he is there.

"At least you got her not to wear it for quite some time," your hear Shacklebolt say "you should have seen her when she first got to Auror training. You would have thought it was the only thing she owned."

Laughter rings in your ears, but your gaze is fixed on her, who shrugs. You would love to dare to hope, but you are too busy searching for something, anything, on her face.

"It's not like we don't appreciate the sentiment," George comments "I mean, you must have been desperate to look like a Gryffindor to snag that old sweater…"

She sticks his tongue at him.

"I don't wear it for any of you anyway." She says, pretending to be angry. "I wear it for me. I love it, and I love the way I feel in it."

"I love the way you feel in it too." You hear him whisper, and you remember all the things you have always wanted to forget. "Besides, we all have something that makes us feel better, something that reminds us of times we would like to go back to forever. Better times."

"Better houses!" Fred proclaims, and a new wave of laughter erupts in the room.

But you don't notice, because she nods imperceptibly. And for a second she raises her gaze and her eyes meet yours.

You hold your breath.

_Smoke and mirrors._

It's only a moment that has gone unnoticed by everybody else, but you know it wasn't coincidental and you're blown away by the glimpse you've taken at her.

Suddenly, there is oxygen in the world again. Something inside you stirs. And you know your dreams are going to be scarlet and gold until they are no longer dreams.

Until that sweater returns to its original owner.

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End file.
